Amaya
by Death Spire
Summary: Arthur Kirkland remembers his past in the village of Amaya, and the secrets he learned there. He faces the ghosts of his past and learns why it is that it's always raining Amaya Village, his own personal arm pit of hell. One shot. This is a re-write of a story I wrote a long time ago, and is not meant to be an EnglandXJapan story.
Amaya Village, located in God-knows-where England, was a pit of isolated hell. With a sadly dwindling population of a little over 100, I was sure that no one from the outside world even knew our little village existed. Not that anyone would want to visit it anyway.

The thing about Amaya; it never stopped raining. I remember waking up in the middle of the night to find that it had been raining so hard that even when I covered my ears and tried to hum myself back to sleep I couldn't block out the noise of the constant sound of water pounding on my roof, becoming just plain white noise.

It was as if a permanent cloud of negative energy had descended itself upon the little village, acting as a magnet to people who had given up on living a life that would ever actually amount to anything. It was home to useless people with no ambition and no self esteem, as my big brother Allister had always said. That was, of course, until he left. Off to somewhere that meant something, he'd announced to the family just prior to slamming the front door behind him, his meager bag of belongings in one hand and a one way bus ticket to the nearest town in the other.

Right before he closed that door and walked out of my life for what I was sure would be forever, he looked me right in the eyes and said, more gently than he'd ever spoken to me before, "Arthur, when you're older you should get out of this place, too. It's no good here." And like that he was gone. Of course I just laughed at him along with the rest of my family. Why would I leave? I was just like everyone else in that damned village; too stupid and apathetic to realize how nothing good could ever come out of a place that gave you no reason to live.

You see, my family, living where we did, were in the only business that could be presented to us; we sold and delivered old books. Of course, living in Amaya, we didn't get many customers, so the ones we had, while few, were treated like royalty. So at the age of nineteen, when we got a late night call for a copy of Harry Potter or some other book I'd already read 20 times through, I was ordered by my parents to get on my bike and take care of it.

Riding down the winding dirt path that was the only way out of the seemingly endless forest that encircled my home, I did my best to dodge the potholes I could see and prayed that I didn't crash over the ones I didn't. I finally came across the only 'major' road in Amaya, and I use that term in it's loosest sense. No one in Amaya ever drove anywhere; the village was so small that there was no need and no one from the outside world ever drove through, so one could literally stand in the middle of the road with no fear of ending up draped over the hood of someone's car.

Normally I would just keep riding, cross the road, and be on my way, but that day, as I looked across the road, I saw a girl standing there, looking up at the sky and allowing herself to be drenched by the pelting rain, not even bothering to close her eyes as the droplets rained down on us like bullets. She seemed to be about my age, with short black hair that, despite the heavy rain, seemed perfectly smooth, not a tangle on top of her sickly pale head.

I guess what really got my attention was the fact that her thin frame was completely bare, no clothes covering her pale, delicate looking body. My immediate thought was to look away, it being ungentlemanly to look at a woman in that state, but something about the way she stood there, her back to me as she stared at the dark clouds above, made me unable to look away. She just seemed off, as if she wasn't supposed be there, like her existence in itself was somehow… wrong. Just looking at her as long as I had made me feel nauseous, like I were getting motion sick.

My attention, however, was quickly pulled away from the girl as I noticed a pair of headlights heading in our direction. They illuminated the thin looking girl, plowing through the rain and showing no sign of stopping. Throwing my bike down and letting the rainproof bag of books fall to the ground, I ran into the street, grabbing the distracted girl and shoving her out of the road. She propelled forwards, not stumbling, but somehow drifting, as if she weren't even touching the floor.

When she turned back to look at me, not even the blaring horn of the truck that had seen me a little too late could pry my eyes away. A face so pale, a complexion so beautiful, all marred by the open gash that sliced across her face where her eyes had most likely once been, leaving in their place fleshy pits whose only purpose were to gape at me like hungry mouths as blood trailed down her face, looking disturbingly like tears.

That was all I could comprehend before I felt the full force of a semi truck crashing into me and shattering nearly every bone on the right side of my body. I lay in the road, staring up at the clouds above me, letting the rain that was mixing with my blood stream down the road and into the grass. I could feel my organs begin to fail as they were punctured by the shattered bones, all of them trying desperately to continue functioning without success. It felt as if someone had lit my entire body on fire.

My view of the sky was suddenly obscured by the figure of the girl whom I had pushed out of the road. She leaned over me, the tear like blood leaking out of the holes in her face and dripping onto mine. I hacked up blood, wanting desperately to drag my mangled body out of the road and away from the girl, but not even having the strength to roll myself over. She leaned down, and so quickly I am still not sure if I ever saw it, the corners of her lips turned up ever so slightly, as if my death in itself had somehow brought her some kind of malicious joy. Her lips moved, forming words, but I was by then too far gone to comprehend any curse she may have tried to utter.

Somewhere far in the distance I heard the truck door open and the sound of the driver yelling. And just like that, the girl was gone.

I don't remember much of what happened after that, but I do know this much: I should not be alive. I mean, not many people can survive being rammed into by a semi truck. But I didn't escape unscaved. I was in a nearby hospital for months after that, and I've been going to physical therapy ever since and having to use a cane to walk. Even after I went back home, my family insisted that I no longer be their go-to delivery boy.

For months I begged anyone who would listen to believe me when I told them about the girl in the road, but most of them just assumed that I had hit my head in the accident.

However, that did not stop my foolish curiosity, which I now look back on and wonder how any one person could be so stupid. As soon as I was once again able to walk, as unbalanced and somewhat painful as it was, I snuck back out to the road where I last saw the girl. It was raining profusely, quite similar to the weather of the night of the accident.

Unable to ride my bike, I walked down the path and back to the road. I stood at the edge, the trees of the forest surrounding me. I took a deep breath and clenched my fists before walking into the road.

The girl was no where to be seen. I looked around, not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. To be honest, I'm still not sure what I was expecting. I stood there, looking around like an idiot and wondering what I was going to do next. What the hell did I expect?

I stood there for a while until I realised that the already dark sky was getting darker. My family would be wondering where I was. I looked down as the rain continued to fall, soaking through my hair and clothing and dripping off the tip of my nose, falling down onto the pavement. I remember a deep feeling of melancholy descending over me then. A strange sadness that seemed to seep deep into my very soul. And then, as I stood there, watching the drops as they plummeted onto the surface of the earth, I had to wander the purpose of the rain.

Surely Amaya had had it's fill of the rain. So much came down that it killed our crops, flooded our homes, and had even drowned our children. Some may say that rain brings life, but I knew different. Rain may be bring good to a certain amount, but after a while it becomes dangerous to the point of damaging what it was supposed to help grow.

Those thoughts plagued me, perhaps the very same ones that had haunted my brother.

And I knew, right then and there, that I could no longer take the rain.

I turned back towards the mouth of the forest, deciding it was time I left for home, when I felt a chill slither up my spine as if someone had placed their finger on the small of my back and used it to trace all the individual bumps all the way to the base of my neck. I held my breath.

It's just the rain, I desperately tried to convince myself. Just the rain playing tricks on me, just like that night…

But I knew I was fooling no one, not even myself.

I couldn't talk, I couldn't move, I couldn't even breathe. Everything held still, and for a moment it was as if the rain itself had stopped. The hands gently grabbed onto my shoulders as they turned me around to face the being who stood behind me.

The same gash spread across her face, the same rotten smell heaved out of her mouth with every gasp of breath she tried, and failed, to take. And this time I was sure of it- this was a face I recognized.

 _The rain also fell heavily that day, but that was just to be expected; they were in Amaya for goodness sake. Two children, two best friends to be exact, played by the river. Their parents had warned them not to, but children were going to be children after all. As soon as their parent's had turned their backs, the two had practically sprinted into the forest, towards the flooding body of water. The river was especially full that day, filled to the brim with fresh rain water. One child, the blond haired little boy, was supposed to be delivering books, but he decided to take the long way around so he could stop by his friend's house. She gladly walked with him, smiling politely as they walked through the rain. Arthur didn't bother with an umbrella, but the little girl, wanting to protect her pretty hair, had brought one along and insisted they share it._

 _"Sakura…" He asked after a long pause in their conversation, "Why does it always rain here?"_

 _"Well…" Sakura started, smiling at the chance to show off her knowledge. "Mommy says that Amaya means 'night rain' in Japanese- that's where my family is from. She always says that names are important, and they really affect people, and even towns. If you call someone by something long enough, they'll soon become that thing."_

 _Arthur was quiet a moment. "... Sakura... " He turned to her. He grabbed her hand and intertwined his pinky with hers, blushing as he stared at the floor to avoid looking her in the eyes. "If that's true then… I want you to call us friends, okay? Pinky promise that you'll do that? Because if we say it enough, then we can be friends forever."_

 _Sakura smiled, tightening her grip around Arthur's little finger. "Okay, Arthur! We'll be friends forever."_

 _The two walked through the forest by the river, completely unaware of the danger awaiting the first person to step off the path._

 _All it took was one misstep and Sakura disappeared below the surface of the river. The white water churned furiously, making it impossible for even the strongest swimmer to have been able to swim back to the surface. The last place Sakura would ever be seen again would be in Arthur's imagination. However, as Arthur grew older, and his family felt that he was at that age when it just wasn't natural for a little boy to have imaginary friends, Arthur was forced to trade Sakura in for the acceptance of his family._

Anyone who knows anything understands just how lonely it is when you no longer have any friends, and as I stood there, looking upon the face of the only good thing Amaya had ever given me, I realized that Sakura had suffered through that loneliness for the better part of twelve years.

"Sakura…" I stammered, reaching up and grabbing her hand as she continued to stroke my face. "I'm sorry… I am... so sorry. But it's alright now. I'm here for you. Remember what we said? Friends… forever...?"

All the fear that consumed my heart just moments before were almost instantly replaced with pure sadness. I got onto my knees to look at the little girl who stood in front of me. The tears of blood had stopped completely, leaving in their place tears of water that were dripping out the corners of her beautiful auburn eyes.

"Ar… thur…?" She sobbed along with me.

The night went on, and the rain continued along with it. That single moment seemed to last an eternity, and only came to an end when I opened my eyes again to find my self lying in the middle of the road, drenched in rain water. I had a slight head ache, but for the most part I felt fine. I slowly lifted myself to my feet, looking around to see if Sakura were still around but, to my great disappointment, I was the only person there. After that I walked back to my house and climbed back into bed, falling asleep and not caring that my bed was now wet due to my clothing that was completely soaked from the rain outside.

Not even two weeks later I moved in with Allister where I remain to this day. It still rains sometimes, and Allister provides his own set of problems, but I guess I can deal with that. Because I am never going back to Amaya. Sakura never had a chance to escape, but I wasn't going to let myself waste away in a town like that.

Sakura will always be a part of me. I don't need Amaya to remember her.

Besides, I think I've had enough rain to last me a life time.


End file.
